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fouryearsofshades · 2 years

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A Market Stall in Batavia, Andries Beeckman (attributed to), Albert Eckhout (rejected attribution), c. 1640 - c. 1666

The Dutch and Malay inscriptions on the piece of paper in the lower right corner identify this as a Dutch painting of subjects studied on the spot. Most of the fruit varieties are found only in Indonesia, the former Dutch East Indies, and were not exported to Europe at the time. The combination of figures from different countries suggests that the setting is most probably the very cosmopolitan Batavia, modern-day Jakarta.8 A Chinese merchant, recognizable as such from his distinctive goatee, moustache and remarkably long fingernails, is counting coins in a fruit stall set off with bamboo partitions. Standing on the left is a woman wearing a typically Javanese sarong and kebaya and holding a small cigar in one hand while placing a durian upright with the other. A second Javanese woman in the middle is lifting a small bundle of leaf wrappers out of a small Japanese lacquered casket, probably betel leaves. A boy behind her is picking a banana from the bunch hanging on the right. A striking salmon-crested cockatoo (Cacatua moluccensis) is perched on the bamboo screen at the back.

Andries Beeckman went to great lengths to depict the huge diversity of tropical fruit as faithfully as possible, but he was clearly not a professional still-life painter. The different varieties are easily distinguished, but their textures are not convincing. Laid out on the table – some with numbers matching the list on the piece of paper (the latter are given between brackets below) – are, on the far left, from top to bottom, rambutans (Nephelium lappaceum, no. 1), langsats (Lansium domesticum, no. 3) and starfruit (Averrhoa carambola, no. 2). Beside them are a partly cut pomelo (Citrus maxima, no. 4) and durians, one of them sliced (Durio, no. 5). The three small pieces of red fruit at bottom left are water or Malay apples (Syzygium aqueum or Syzygium malaccense, no. 6) or Java apples (Syzygium samarangense), and lying to their right are mangoes (Mangifera indica, no. 7) and pineapples (Ananas comosus, no. 8). Below the two pineapples in the centre are jackfruit, one halved (Artocarpus Heteropyllus, no. 9) and several small mangosteens, some opened (Garcinia mangostana, no. 10). On the right are bananas (no. 11), five coconuts and a halved one (Cocos nucifera), and at the very front cashew apples (Anacardium occidentale). The fruit cut in two in the Japanese casket is probably a sort of lime called a Calamondin orange (Citrofortunella microcarpa).

The Rijksmuseum painting is a reduced version of a canvas from an anonymous series of scenes of foreign peoples and produce that decorated the walls of Schloss Pretzsch an der Elbe in Saxony until 1828 (fig. a).9 In the nineteenth century they were removed, first to Berlin and then to Schloss Schwedt an der Oder in Brandenburg.10 They were seen there in the 1930s by Thomsen, who rather hesitantly attributed them to Albert Eckhout and dated them around the middle of the seventeenth century.11 Schwedt was completely destroyed in the closing days of the Second World War, and all that is left of the works of art are pre-war black-and-white photographs making it clear that the attribution to Eckhout is untenable.12

The connection with the canvas from Schloss Pretzsch also led to this Market Stall in Batavia being wrongly attributed to Eckhout or his circle in the past.13 It is woodenly executed, compositionally clumsy, and is not of the kind of Brazilian subject for which Eckhout is known. Minor differences between the two paintings show that they were not copied after each other but seem to share the same or a similar source. The way in which the fruit and cockatoo are depicted displays a clear resemblance to the only known still life by Andries Beeckman (fig. b), and, interestingly, one of the scenes from the series in Pretzsch castle was definitely based on watercolours by him,14 so the present canvas could also be by Beeckman or someone from his circle.

Very little is known about the picture’s provenance, although there are a few early records of an Indonesian fruit market, and since A Market Stall in Batavia is the only surviving work of that nature there is a great temptation to associate it with those early sources. There is, however, nothing that can be said for certain. Around 1660 Jan Vos wrote an ode about paintings in the collection of Joan Huydecooper, among them an ‘East Indies fruit market’: ‘Who has driven me from the north to the east? / I find myself in the market of the East Indies coast. / Here nature displays her fruit as food for life. / The sight makes my mouth desire the beautiful harvest, / Thus is my stomach now sorely overburdened. / Greedy eyes are not soon satiated’.15 It may well be that the poet was referring to the Rijksmuseum canvas.16 There is a second mention of an ‘East Indies fruit market’ a little later in the collection of burgomaster Mattheus van den Broucke of Dordrecht.17 It is far from obvious that it refers to this Market Stall in Batavia. His picture was one of a series of which the others were described as ‘One ditto, with East Indies animals and fruit’, ‘One ditto, being East Indies lodgings, ‘One ditto’, ‘Three ditto, East Indies women’ and ‘A Moorish woman’.18 It is very possible that the Rijksmuseum painting was also part of a larger ensemble of that kind.

Erlend de Groot, 2022

#hanfu #indonesia #art #sarong #Andries Beeckman #kebaya #懒收巾 #jingguan #headwear #dutch painting #A Market Stall in Batavia

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aikoiya · 1 year

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LoZ: TotK - Sky Island Fruit

I wonder what Fire Fruit, Ice Fruit, Dazzle Fruit, & Splash Fruit taste like.

I'm pretty sure we all know that Shock Fruit tastes like lemon. No, Starry or Ghost Citrus! And I think it'd tingle on the tongue like pop rocks, but what about the rest?

For the sake of worldbuilding, I need to figure this out.

Guaranteed, Splash Fruit is juicy af. Like, watermelon juicy. Maybe it tastes like a combination of apples soaked in white grape juice & white grapes soaked in lemon juice. It's the relative shape & color of a calabash, so it has a slightly bitter edge to it & a scent of squash & coconut water.

Fire Fruit are inspired by uchuva, Chinese lantern fruits, a/o cape gooseberries, so they'd likely taste like them too. So, sweet, yet tart & tangy when ripe, but sour when not. Possibly has a flavor profile a bit like spiced mandarin oranges, tomatoes, & cherries. The fruit has a similar texture to a cherry tomato. I do also think that if you were to remove the lattice leaf protecting the fruit inside & tear the actual fruit open, the juice that'd spill out would be on fire. Just liquid fire or napalm, but edible. I remember in the Wrinkle in Time movie that Disney did (the 2004 one, not the remake), Mrs. Whatsit pries open a fig-looking fruit (I think) to spill its contents on a bundle of wood, the juice was on fire, which starts the wood on fire. That's sort of what I think it'd be like. The juice would also sizzle on your tongue but wouldn't burn. Instead, it's pleasantly hot. Not warm, hot. Like a hot bath or a hearth.

Ice Fruit, I just learned, might be in some way inspired by the ice apple. Which, the heck?? Why am I only just learning about this mess??? But whatever; they'd likely take cues from that. So, Ice Fruit would actually be legitimately transparent to a degree. Known to be mildly sweet, often compared to the flavor of coconut. Their flesh has been described as jelly-like in consistency & biting into the center results in a burst of sugary-sweet juice. - Beyond that, I'd make them actually cold & refreshing, they are mildly sweet & per a really good suggestion I got, they'd taste like champaign grapes, but also a little bit like white grapes with a hint of Palm Fruit (as noted above). Their flesh would be gelatinous with a thin skin like a frost bubble (think a dry ice bubble used in mixology). And, because I wanna insert a tiny bit of wonder into this, you can literally do that breathing frost thing that you can do when it's really cold, but at any time of year or temperature every time you take a sip. Kids & grown-up children (gestures to oneself) would most likely love them. - Also, evidently, if you get a cooler, put any sort of small fruit inside with some dry ice for 20 minutes, then the dry ice sublimates, the fruit absorbs it, & you'll get a type of carbonated frozen fruit! I'm thinking to find one that I can use to add onto the flavor profile of the Ice Fruit. It just seems like too "cool" of an idea to pass up. Problem is, I'm not quite sure what kind of words to use to describe it in a more "scientific" way yet.

For a bit more information on these IRL ice apples (Borassus flabellifer), it's a tropical fruit that grows on sugar palm trees in India. The ice apple is also known as Tadgola in Marathi & Hindi, & Nungu in Tamil. They are found inside a coconut-like fruit that grows on sugar palm trees & acts as a coolant. They are fleshy & transparent with yellowish jelly-like flesh & a slightly square-ish shape.

I'm still not sure what Dazzlefruit would taste like, though. And no clue what it's inspired by. It'd probably have a bright, light flavor, hmm??

If anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears.

LoZ Wild Masterlist

#loz #totk #tears of the kingdom #worldbuilding #food #legend of zelda #fire fruit #ice fruit #shock fruit #splash fruit #dazzlefruit

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feverinfeveroutfic · 1 year

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love is not enough | chapter fourteen

He awoke early the next morning with his arms still snaked around their bodies and their scents washed over him like a blanket. He flexed his fingers on Jay’s hip and gently caressed the curve of her body: he gazed into her face, at her sleeping eyes and the way that she resembled to a little doll.

He smiled at her, a little tender smile, and he envisioned the three of them together in Hawai’i, on the island of Kaua’i on a cool autumn day when the summer heat had passed by and the feel of the winds caressed the tropical waters, and yet everything remained fresh and green from the onset of springtime. He had taken his shirt off and tied a makeshift belt of a vine around his waist to keep his little white shorts up his long lanky legs and to accentuate the slightly full shape of his body.

He let his hair cascade down over his shoulders onto his chest, and the sun caressed the crown of his head and his shoulders: he looked as if he had risen right out of the summit of Kilauea and was missing the hot lava all around him. The volcano god looking for his twin Pelèes.

He nudged a broad leaf out of the way to behold the beach on the leeward side of the island: the black and white sands beckoned him with the comforting warmth of fall; the waves gently lapped against the shore's edge with the warm, sunbathed water of the tropics. He let his hair and his skin hang out as he took one step over the nearest branch and sauntered onto those warm volcanic sands.

He turned his attention to the left to find them there under a small circle of date palms. The two of them in grass skirts with the lime green mokihana leis around their necks and coconut bras on their chests; he ran his fingers through his long inky black curls before he walked on over to them to join in on their little luau. Q offered him and slipped a lei over his head, to which he lifted his hair off the back of his neck. The smooth beads and the bundles of minute pointed leaves brushed against his skin but only soothed him from the presence of the leaves behind him.

All the warm roasted pineapple and mango he could ever ask for right then before they treated him to the hula and another hula there on the beach as the sun set behind the crown of the Garden Island.

He sighed through his nose, only to be woken by the rumble of distant thunder. He opened his eyes to find the streaks of torrential rain on the outside of the window. Hopefully, a nice cool day there in Kansas City in comparison to the violent tornado the day before as he knew they were going to have to leave at some point later that day to head on over to New York City and the torrential rains over there. He thought about the rain in Hawai'i, the vast sheets of rain that cascaded down over those fresh green summits to bathe him and let his skin drink in all that was good in the world.

At one point, during his daydream, Jay took off her bra and let her breasts bare free under the rouse of the tropical rains.

She was home. He had brought her back home to where her roots lay even if she wasn't Hawaiian herself.

And then there was Q, with the scars underneath the waist of her skirt and the feeling remained so far from what was born with. There was so much to those battle scars that he yearned to know about it all. All the questions he wanted to ask but there was something that held him back, that made him feel as though a single question would not suffice even for his inquisitive mind.

If only there was a way to let these girls truly be themselves and without the threat of losing their money or their lives. If only he could scrounge up the money himself and bring them home to the Hawaiian Islands, away from the rest of the world and the ocean as their playground.

The sound of the cold rain on the outside of the window only made him want to snuggle down even more on the bed. It was cold in their hotel room, and yet he couldn't bear to climb out of bed to turn up the heat lest he let go of them.

I'm never letting go, he said to himself.

But then Jay cleared her throat and shuffled right there next to him; Q, meanwhile, never stirred for one second. He rolled his head over the top of the pillow for a look at her face, and right as her eyes popped open. He gazed into those large brown irises, the corners of which curled up into a sweet smile for him. He then moved his lips closer to her own for a soft kiss.

“Good morning,” he greeted her in a gentle whisper.

“Good morning, baby,” she returned the favor, to which she kissed him again on those soft lips. The feeling made his toes curl and his knees knit together. Both of these girls were good kissers, enough to warm him up inside and have him moving like the magma chamber inside of Mauna Loa; it was that moment he wished for Q to wake up to give him a second good morning kiss.

“It's so chilly in here,” she noted.

“I don't want to get up and turn the heater on, though,” he confessed.

“I don't blame you,” she said as she ran her fingers down his chest and onto his bare stomach. His toes curled again as she stroked the undone waist of his jeans. All the subtle touches he could ever ask for; all the sweet feelings that only further warmed him up from within. No way he could leave it all for the sake of turning a dial on a heater next to the bed.

“I love the way your skin feels,” she noted. “So soft and silky, and no wonder why you're so touchy feely and sensual, too.”

“Like laying on the beach and running your hands over the sand,” he suggested.

“Oh, yes. Better than that, I would say.” Her fingers caressed over the one spot between his belly button and the band of his underwear, where it was extra soft and smooth like that of bone china. The feeling of her fingers only coaxed a smile out of him.

“Let me take you to Hawai'i,” he said to her right then. “Some day. The three of us, all together. We'll go to Hawai'i. I'll start saving my money after the tour so we can do it.”

“Hawai'i and Alaska, too,” she added.

“Alaska!” He raised his eyebrows at that.

“When I was in high school, my dad managed to get a job at a processing plant up on the Aleutian Islands,” she recalled. “He said it's absolutely stunning up there.”

“Hm, Hawai'i in the fall and Alaska in the springtime?” he suggested.

“Sounds like a plan, baby,” she said with a smile and a gentle kiss on the side of his neck.

“I cannot believe she actually has a gun on her,” he remarked.

“Who, Q?”

“Yeah. It's just strange is all.”

“Well... we kind of have to have them,” she confessed in between kisses. “Our boss is known to get violent if we don't please him. If he's—coming after us, and after you, we have to do something. The cops won't help us.”

“You girls are your very own militia,” he noted with a slight smile on his face.

“Exactly.” She cupped his face in her hand as she pressed her lips onto his for a good long one, and one which made every inch of his body relax. She then held back and licked her lips at him.

“You wanna make out?” she offered. “You're looking really sexy and drop dead gorgeous right about now.”

“Yeah, why not.” He showed her a playful little smirk at that. “A nice slow li’l make out session.”

It was tricky given he still had his right arm underneath Q's body, but he managed to jerk his hand out from under her. Jay ran her fingers along his chest and his shoulder; once he let Q roll over onto her back, he turned to her for her love.

“You have taught me that every nerdy boy has a dark side,” she remarked in a near whisper, “and even the busiest people have moments to steal for themselves.”

“Indeed, we do, my sweet,” he assured her, and he ran his fingers through her hair at the back of her head and gave her the softest sweetest kiss yet on his part. Her skin was silken and her hair felt like water. She kept her body close to him against the cold of the hotel room, such that he could feel her pointed nipples under the velvet of her camisole.

“Is it cold in here or are you just happy to see me?” he asked her.

“Both, you filthy little dog, you,” she whispered. He ran his hand down the small of her back, down onto her hip to feel the softness of her skin, made even softer and smoother from the cold of the room. Her lips interlocked with his, and he drank down the feeling of her, as if he took in a chalice from the purest water on the planet. Her bare knee rubbed up against the backside of his legs, and she brought her lips down to his neck and his chest.

He parted his lips for a soft whistle: her touches were so tender that he swore that he would never go back to his old life before then. No way he could do that, not to these two girls.

He felt her inch down his body towards his stomach and the lower part of his belly, where things were even more tender. The feeling of her lips there was enough to send him flying again, and he treated her to a gentle groan each and every time she kissed him. The softest kisses, all the way down his belly towards his waist, and they were enough to tickle him and drive him crazy. Who needed the heater on when the heat was on right then and there on the bed.

“Kiss me there—” he whimpered out, and she kissed him right under his belly button. He parted his lips but no sound came out from the back of his throat.

He rolled part of the way onto his back to accentuate his hips, and Jay was eager to kiss him there again.

“That's a really sexy spot to kiss him, Jay.”

He opened his eyes to find Q right there next to his head with an unsure smile on her face.

“You guys having some morning fun without me?” she demanded.

“Without you? It wouldn't be as fun without you.” He clasped his hands onto her shoulders and yanked her down to his face for a big open lipped one. Q hung over his face so her hair dangled down over him like the vines from a tree.

“Let me slip into something more comfortable,” she suggested in a near whisper and with a lick of her lips. She clambered away from him right then, and Jay resumed with the kisses below his waist. She left a small ring of them right above the waist of his underwear when Q surfaced in a little body stocking of black lace, complete with holes cut out for her breasts. She had stuck thick lacy pasties on her nipples and slipped her fingers into her hair at the back of her head to make her breasts hang out in the open.

Jay held back out of the way for him to see for himself.

“Um, hello,” he noted with a raise of his eyebrows

“Jay's got her jammies but I've got the real thing here,” she quipped as she adjusted the sides of the stocking, right near her breasts.

“Is this new?”

“New to you,” she answered. “I've had this for a long time, though.” She climbed upon the foot of the bed, right by his feet, and she crawled up closer to him; all the while, her breasts hung loose, as if she awaited him to put his face there. Indeed, he lifted his hand for a touch, but she swatted at the back and wagged her finger at him.

“Don't make sit on you,” she warned him. “This thing has no crotch, after all.”

“Do it,” he said with a wink and a slight flick of his eyebrows. “You know you want to, seeing as it's open season and whatnot.”

“Sit on him, Q,” Jay encouraged him. “Sit on him like you never sat on anyone before.”

Q climbed up towards his face and swung her hips around so her ass was right over his head. She opened her legs for him and he held his breath as he came face to face with her lips, already bright pink in anticipation of his tongue. A nice appetizer before his morning cup of coffee as he slipped his tongue along the rim of her lips. She inched back so he could touch her clit and that little hood all around it; he closed his eyes as he relished in the taste as well as the feel of her. The thin lace of the stocking brushed against his nose and his cheekbones, and he knew he was moving in deep. He opened his eyes just enough to see the insides of her legs as well as his own feet pointed up at the end of the bed; Jay meanwhile had put her lips around his burgeoning erection for a taste of him.

Not just an appetizer but a whole round of breakfast on its own.

Jay scraped the edges of her teeth against his tightening skin which made him gasp. He stuck his tongue right on the head of Q's clit, which in turn made her yelp out. She breathed harder as he moved in deeper with that velvet tongue.

All he could think about was making her come, and for Jay to make him come.

Someone was going to come.

His tongue swiped Q's clit again, and she let out a low moan, and he knew that was the trick. He did it again to make her come a second time. She lifted off his face so he could catch his breath, but then Jay scraped the edges of her teeth on his taut skin once more and he treated them to a short sharp shriek. She let go of him and coughed, only to follow it up with a hearty laugh.

Panting, he watched her run her tongue along the head to lap up the little pearls that dribbled out, and he lay his head on the pillow once again. Though it was still cold in that room, his body radiated with that warmth of the volcano inside of him. His chest rose and fell as Q leaned into his face again, that time for a soft kiss on the lips.

“Keep that thing on,” he encouraged her with a gesture to the stocking. “I reckon we'll have more fun in the Big Apple.”

“Indeed, we will, baby—” She flashed him a wink, and then she kissed him again. Jay licked her lips as she looked on into his face: she adjusted the straps of her camisole as if she was about to take it off, but she never did.

“Going with the velvet?” he asked her.

“You bet, big boy,” she ensured him with a kiss on the side of the neck.

“Phew. What time does our flight leave?”

“Ten-thirty,” Q replied. “Check out is at eleven. It's a quarter after seven now if we want to grab some breakfast, which I guess packs up in about an hour.”

“Oh, shit, we gotta get movin’—”

#love is not enough #love is not enough fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 14 #smut warning #testament fanfic #testament #testament band #alex skolnick #oc tag #also on ao3 #writing #text

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